


Cigarette Smoke

by JuliusSneezer



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Religion, Smoking, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22607386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliusSneezer/pseuds/JuliusSneezer
Summary: Roaming the trenches, Ludwig notices that Feliciano is acting different from how he usually does. He does his best to comfort him in his own clunky way.
Relationships: Germany/North Italy (Hetalia)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Cigarette Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always a slut for angsty Feliciano

Ludwig’s boots dug into the wet soil as he trudged the trenches. His rifle was settled far to comfortably in his hands, his breath fogging in the chilly autumn air as he walked. He paced the sinking ground, unsure of what he was searching for. Perhaps something to do other than lying in wait for something – anything – to happen at all. He wanted a way to avoid the thoughts that plagued his mind. They bounced around inside his skull, echoing louder and louder until they were almost impossible to ignore. From the time this damn war started, he was against what it represented. The man who led it, the ideals it held aloft, everything about it rolled sickeningly in his stomach. As a German citizen, though, it was his duty to fight for his country.   
Under the light of the full moon, he was able to see quite clearly around him. 

The more talkative soldiers had struck conversation with those around them. Their tones were quiet and muttered. The quiet ones either stood along the wall or, like him, trudged the trenches in search for anything. If he was honest with himself, perhaps Ludwig was looking for something specifically. For one of the two friends he had made during this hell on earth. He knew there was no hope of finding Kiku. The man was overseas at the moment and communicated largely through letters. Letters that were folded and unfolded constantly, read almost religiously before they were settled back in Ludwig’s pocket. He worried about his friend. Every morning he woke and hoped for the best. He knew that his other friend, Feliciano, felt the same. 

He eventually spotted Feliciano leaning against a stack of wooden crates. His gun was resting, stock-down, at his feet. The barrel leaned against the crates, seemingly forgotten by its owner. His helmet was set on the top of the crates. When Ludwig had met Feliciano, his hair had been rather long for a man, kept loose. Now it had been cut short per military regulations, his bangs slicked away from his forehead. It was an unusual look on the man. After all the gel had washed out after a rain, Ludwig tended to think it looked better down loose, rather like the man himself. But it remained stiff, combed back against his scalp in a way that seemed far too rigid for him. His boots were muddy, his uniform wrinkled. He could never quite fold his things properly. What immediately drew Ludwig’s attention, however, was the cigarette held in Feliciano’s long, nimble fingers. 

“I didn’t know you smoked.” Ludwig said, approaching his friend.

Feliciano glanced over, his brown eyes widened slightly in surprise. The expression morphed into recognition. “I did. A couple years ago.” 

“And now.” Ludwig added. He stood by Feliciano. 

Feliciano said nothing, taking a long drag out of the cigarette. 

“Those things can kill you.” Ludwig muttered. He hated cigarettes. Everything about them. The smell, the yellow they left on teeth, the tell-tale nicotine stains on the hands of smokers. He was well-acquainted with them. He couldn’t get his brother to kick the habit. 

Feliciano’s hand drifted to his side, the cigarette dangling out of his fingers. He exhaled a long breath of smoke, smiling without mirth. The grin stretched awkwardly over his teeth. “So can war. So can eating too much. So can sickness. All life ends in death.” 

Ludwig frowned, turning away from the moon and looking at Feliciano. “That’s unusually bleak for you.” 

Feliciano gazed back. “These are unusually bleak times.” He lifted the cigarette back to his lips, leaving it between them. 

Ludwig noticed a glint in his periphery, gazing downward at Feliciano’s hand. “What are you holding?” 

Feliciano glanced down as if he had forgotten. He raised his hand, opening his closed fist to reveal his rosary. The beads were copper, the cross wooden. A cheap rosary, but no less valuable than one of gold. Feliciano transferred the rosary to his other hand. The one that previously held it had angry red marks from the beads. In the midst of his palm, there was the clear imprint of the cross. “My rosary.” He slid it back into his pocket, reaching up to pluck the cigarette from his lips. 

Ludwig turned to face the moon again. The moon and stars stood, side by side, in the sky. So close together and yet so far apart. 

“Do you believe in God, Ludwig?” Feliciano asked, blowing out another plume of smoke. 

Ludwig blinked confusedly. “Hmm?” 

“God. Do you believe in him?”

Ludwig turned back to face Feliciano. “I don’t know. Does it matter?” For whatever reason, he wanted to be upset at the question. At the reasons behind it. These days he was just so angry. At everyone. But for whatever reason the words held no bite. They were exhaled as a confused mutter, sapping away whatever anger he had in his body.

“I don’t know if you remember, but I was raised Catholic.” Feliciano said. 

Of course Ludwig remembered. He remembered that Feliciano loved to paint, that he had a pet cat named Pookie back home, that he had two brothers that he loved dearly. That his favorite color changed every single day but could always be found in the sunset. “I do.” 

“And I want to believe, I do.” Feliciano insisted. He turned away. Faced the solitary moon and desperate stars. “But I can’t help but think…” his hand shook slightly as he raised the cigarette to his mouth and drew in a terrified breath. “If there was a God, there is no way he could be this cruel.” He blew out his fear. Let the smoke mingle with the steam that came off his hot breath. “There is no way he would let us kill each other like this. No way he would take my brothers off to who-knows-where, no way he could make me fight for the side that I detest. It seems impossible.” 

Ludwig had no idea how to respond. He had been raised without a religion, just the idea that there was someone all-knowing watching from somewhere. He had never bought into it. “… he always has a reason, right?” 

“That’s what I’ve been told.” Feliciano responded. 

Ludwig cleared his throat. “Then perhaps he has one that we don’t know yet. If we’re supposed to learn from history, maybe this is happening so nothing like this ever happens again.”   
“Maybe.” Feliciano let his hand drop to his side, the cigarette smoke rising to graze the cold tips of his fingers. 

Ludwig let his gaze linger on Feliciano a moment later before he too watched the sky. Watched time pass impossibly slowly but far too quickly. He thought of his brother, who was at home because of his health, chain-smoking because it felt better than doing nothing. Kiku, who was sailing the sea with his fellow soldiers, yet so alone. He thought of this war, founded out of hatred and misery. Thought of how every day he woke up and betrayed his own ideals in the hopes that something would happen. 

He reached out an expectant hand, not tearing his gaze away from the sky. There was only a slight pause before his fingers curled unfamiliarly around the lit cigarette. He lifted it to his lips and took his first drag. He wanted to hold the smoke in, but his lungs immediately rebelled. He coughed out the smoke, the fumes abrasive on the smooth walls of his throat. Finally straightening, he huffed out a sigh. Gazed down at the poison he held in his hands. The smoke curled in the air, far too beautiful to fit the harm it caused. He dropped it into the mud and ground it with his boot until it was nothing but ash. 

Feliciano watched, expressionless. 

“If nothing else.” Ludwig finally looked up. Met Feliciano’s gaze. “Stop so maybe you can one day see the reason behind all this, if there is one.” 

“Maybe I don’t care that much about the reason.” Feliciano said. 

Ludwig stared at him. Analyzed him. Scanned the tired circles underneath Feliciano’s eyes, the steam that rose from his mouth as he breathed into the frigid, bone-chilling air. The cold hands that were shoved in his pockets. “Then make sure you’re here when this hell ends.”

The two stared at each other for a moment before Feliciano reached into his pocket and withdrew the pack of cigarettes. He flipped open the lid and took one last, long look at the contents. There was half a pack missing. He took a resolving breath before he scattered the cigarettes into the ground, grinding them into the mud. 

“Thank you.” Ludwig said, relieved. 

“Don’t thank me.” Feliciano looked up, smirking. “You’re going to have to deal with my headaches later.” 

“I’d rather do that than watch you chain-smoke. I don’t like you when you smoke. You get all moody and contemplative.” Ludwig joked. 

Feliciano smiled, glancing back up at the stars. “Now you know how it feels to be on the receiving end.” 

Ludwig did not respond, following Feliciano’s gaze. They stood side-by-side, their breaths mingling in the same air, their boots next to each other, their thoughts disconnected and yet so similar. Suddenly, the stars seemed far less apart.

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys want, send a fic request to JuliusSneezer's Hetalia Fics on Tumblr!
> 
> I don't do incest, NSFW, significant age gaps, or character x reader fic. Anything else is fair game!


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